


Family Isn't Always Blood

by KrisLetang



Series: Demons [5]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Anxiety, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family, Fertility Issues, Meet the Family, Mentioned past rape, Nightmares, Sadness, Smut, Thanksgiving Dinner, estranged family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisLetang/pseuds/KrisLetang
Summary: Rafael finds a letter that you left in the kitchen inviting you to your parent's Thanksgiving Dinner, how will you react?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's the next little short part. It takes place as part of Audible Cracks, before you are pregnant, but obviously after everything with the miscarriage. I thought it was a bit off topic, so I made this part stand on its own. I hope you guys enjoy. Now I need to go to bed because I am exhausted....work, homework....what a year so far. I'm so excited though cause it's two weeks until I hopefully get to meet Raúl Esparza and hopefully I don't faint lmao I love that man. Anyways, thanks for reading and I'd love comments as always!

You were sitting on the couch, legs curled under you as you watched television when it happened. “Y/N, what’s this?” Rafael’s voice was coming from the kitchen. You looked up as he walked into the room with an envelope in his hands. You knew that envelope. You shot up to your feet, trying to snatch it from his hands before he could look at it. 

“That’s nothing,” you exclaimed, but he was too quick for you, holding it up where you couldn’t reach it. “Rafael, give that to me,” you said dangerously, but he wasn’t intimidated. 

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad,” he said with a laugh; you weren’t amused. 

“I’m not kidding,” your voice was so low, you were almost on the verge of tears. He immediately handed it over, 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said softly, “Are you okay?” You held the letter tightly, but would it really be so bad if he read it? You didn’t want to be keeping secrets from him. You sighed loudly and handed it over. 

“Go ahead, read it,” you said softly, anxiously shifting your weight around. 

“It’s just an invitation to Thanksgiving at your parents. Why didn’t you tell me about this, that’s in two weeks,” he said, looking confused. You took the paper back, folding it up, 

“I didn’t tell you because we’re not going,” you plainly explained, heading back over to the couch. 

“Wait, but you’ve met my mother. I’d like to meet your family, unless you’re ashamed of me or something,” he argued, following closely behind you. 

“Raf, it’s not you I’m ashamed of,” you explained sitting down. 

“Oh,” he said softly, sitting beside you, his hand going to your thigh. He was quiet for a while, but he obviously had an opinion on the matter. “Here, come here,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms and running his hands over your hair and back, “You know I wouldn’t judge your family right?” he asked softly, “Even if I disagree with them,” 

“I know Rafael, it’s not about you,” you whispered, lacing your fingers with his, “I have a strained relationship with my parents. It’s a long story, but I don’t want to put you in that situation,”

“Y/N, I understand if you decide not to go, but I would like to meet your family. I have navigated plenty of tense and awkward situations before,” he assured you. You nodded, leaning your head against his chest. “I don’t want to stress you out, not with everything else that’s going on,” 

“I’m okay, just, let me think about it?” you asked softly. What he was asking for wasn’t a ridiculous request, but it had been so long since you visited your family. You had almost broken down and gone home after what happened with Casey, but you knew your parents would blame you for it and you weren’t emotionally equipped to deal with that. You hadn’t seen them since your law school graduation. 

“You think about it and let me know because I’ll have to take work off,” he explained, kissing the top of your head. 

“Why do you always make so much sense?” you asked softly, shutting your eyes. 

“Because I went to Harvard,” he said in a joking tone. You laughed, 

“Don’t you dare insult Yale again because I will kick your ass out to the couch,” you lightly smacked his arm, making him laugh again. 

………………………………………………………

You nervously twisted your jacket around in your hands, leaning back against the chair. How did he manage to talk you into this? “Hey, I got you some ice cream,” Rafael was smiling as he made his way over to the seat beside you and buckled his seat belt. You smiled weakly, nodding and taking the bag. 

“Breathe, I got this. They’re gonna love me,” he said, his eyes sparkling. How was he always so confident? He had no idea what he was walking into. 

“There’s something I have to-” you started to try and say, but you were interrupted by the flight attendant starting to speak. Your hands felt so sweaty, as you clenched them over and over. Rafael’s hand was warm on your thigh. Leaning toward you, he whispered, 

“We’re going to have a nice time. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, “And if you want to leave, you just tell me, and I promise we will come right home,” you nodded, gulping. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe after all these years, things would be different. Rafael cracked jokes the whole time the plane was taking off, but his knuckles were turning white where he was gripping the arm rest. You pried his hand from the chair, holding it instead.  
“How did you manage to hide this from me when we flew to Hawaii?” you asked softly. 

“I’ve flown on plenty of planes mi amor,” he said, but you glared so Rafael finally fessed up, “I may have a standing prescription for Xanax to help with my slight anxiety problem. I only take it when I really need it,” You didn’t know what to say to that, so instead you held his hand tight to try and help. How often did he take Xanax to help with panic attacks from his childhood? A doctor had obviously thought his problem was decently serious. Once you were in the air, he was better, a little tense, but overall pretty calm unless there was turbulence. 

“Can I get you anything to drink ma'am?” the flight attendant asked. 

“Yes please, do you have any Cabernet?” she nodded and then turned to Rafael, 

“And you sir?” she asked. 

“Just water please,” he replied. You frowned, eyebrows furrowing. 

“No whiskey?” you asked softly. 

“I have to be sober if I’m gonna carry you to the cab,” he teased, leaning over to press his lips to your forehead. 

“Oh ha ha,” you replied, leaning your head against his shoulder, maybe this would be okay. 

…………………………………………………

Rafael held your hand tightly as you headed toward the door. He knocked, turning to give you a reassuring smile as you waited for your parents to answer. The door opened, “Y/N,” it was your mother, “You’re late, didn’t I ever teach you any manners?” 

“Hello Mom, nice to see you too,” you said, trying to diffuse the tension that already existed, “This is Rafael,” 

“Ah the man you’re fornucating with, how nice,” she moved aside so you both could come inside, 

“Assuming things aren’t you Mom,” you commented, trying to hold back what you wanted to yell at her. She was always so cold and confrontational, and her ice like words cut you deep. 

“What, I’m supposed to assume you’ve changed entirely from your teen years of sleeping around?” Woof. Rafael’s hand tightened in yours. “Let’s not fight, I’ll have your brother show Ricardo up to his room,” You sighed loudly, 

“Rafael,” you corrected tensely. 

“It’s fine darling,” Rafael whispered, “It’s nice to meet you ma’am,” he offered his hand which your mother shook. 

“Nice manners, perhaps you have changed,” and with that she was gone and you were left feeling more than slightly humiliated, but you didn’t even get a chance to talk to Rafael because your brother Carter was there to take him upstairs. You headed to your childhood bedroom where you put your suitcase down and sat on the bed. Tears were already pricking your eyes, why couldn’t your parents be more understanding? You wanted Rafael to hold you, but you were positive the reaction to that would be less than optimal. You changed your clothes, freshening up quickly before heading downstairs. 

“Y/N, honey,” your father enveloped you in a hug. At least he wasn’t so bitter. Rafael came down moments later, his hand going to your back as he walked up beside you, 

“I’m Rafael,” he said, offering his hand out to your father, 

“Ah, yes,” he said, taking your fiancé’s hand, “It’s nice to meet you,” His eyes were glued to Rafael’s hand that was resting over your shirt. You moved over a step, trying to keep the peace. “Dinner should be ready soon. Carter! Why don’t you come in here and keep your sister company,” your father called, disappearing into the other room. 

“No privacy around here, huh?” he said, a little smile on his face. He was trying to lighten the mood, but you wanted to cry. Your mother chastising you in front of him made you want to curl up in a corner and never move. “Hey, smile, it’s not that bad,” 

“It is that bad Rafael,” you groaned, “Now give me a quick kiss before my brother comes in here,” Rafael obediently kissed you, quick but thorough. 

“I feel like I’m in high school again, this is exciting. Sneaking around,” he said, giving you one more peck before scooting over a bit so there was some space between you. You laughed despite your terrible mood, “Should I sneak into your room tonight?” there was a mischievous look in his eyes, but you immediately grew serious, 

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, my dad has guns,” he watched you for a moment like he thought you were kidding, but when you didn’t crack a smile, he sobered up. Carter sat in the armchair quietly, watching the two of you like a hawk. 

“So, Carter, what grade are you in?” Rafael asked, trying to make some sort of conversation. 

“11th,” your brother said plainly. 

“Do you like school, do anything fun like band?” you appreciated his efforts to get to know your brother, but he was probably already poisoned toward Rafael. 

“I’m homeschooled and I play piano,” Carter replied. 

“You never said you were homeschooled--” Rafael started to say, but Carter interrupted him, 

“She wasn’t, our parents started that after Y/N,” your brother glared. You wanted to punch him, but you knew it wasn’t really his fault. Your parents had given him no exposure to other ideas. 

“Where is Ella?” you asked, cutting your brother off, “She said she was going to be here,” 

“Stuck at the airport,” Carter said. You groaned, your sister was the only normal person in your family who you still talked to on a regular basis. If she wasn’t here, you were going to get all the attention as the black sheep of the family. Rafael likely wouldn’t get hit too hard as your parents would focus all their disapproval on you. Rafael’s hand went to your shoulder, he could sense your distress. You wished the two of you had stayed home and had Thanksgiving with his mother. 

“You okay mi amor?” he asked softly. You took a breath and nodded. “Do you want to--”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you answered. You wanted him to be able to meet your family despite how poorly it was already going. He wanted it, so you didn’t want to take that away from him. “But um, I need you to pick me up something from the store later if you don’t mind,” 

“Sure, what--oh that. Okay,” he knew what you were talking about by the way you were looking at him. “Um, you know we need to…” he trailed off, but you knew what he was talking about also. 

“I know,” you said tiredly, “I’ll figure something out Rafa,” 

“Alright, dinner is ready everyone!” your mother’s voice echoed from the kitchen. Rafael reached for your hand on the way to the table, and you weren’t going to deny him that even if it did make your parents angry. His hand was shaking slightly and that was the first sign of nervousness he had shown since you left. You were glad to see they at least let him sit next to you at the table. When he sat down, he reached for his fork, 

“This looks so good,” he said, but you grabbed his wrist, 

“Don’t eat anything,” you hissed, just loud enough for him to hear. His eyes went a bit wider, but he did as you said, putting the fork back down on the table. 

“Alright, who wants to say grace?” your father asked, “Rafael?” 

“I’ll do it,” you interjected to save Rafael. You shot your father a glare before quickly saying a prayer for the food. 

“So, Ricardo--”

“Mother, his name is Rafael. This isn’t I Love Lucy, not every Cuban man is named Ricardo,” you interrupted. Why couldn’t your parents just behave normally. Rafael patted your thigh to try and get you to calm down. 

“Y/N, it’s rude to interrupt people,” your father chastised. 

“It’s also rude to get people’s name wrong,” you fired back. You weren’t going to take their crap. You were a full grown adult. 

“I was saying, Rafael, what church do you go to?” your mother asked. You almost choked on your food. Rafael looked to you for a moment before clearing his throat, 

“Excuse me. I uh, I was raised going to Catholic school and I went to mass with my mother until I went off to college. Currently, Y/N and I go to Christmas Eve Mass together and occasionally we’ll attend a service with my mom if neither of us is working on Sunday,” he replied. You sighed softly, this was going to get bad quickly. 

“You go to Mass?” this question was directed at you by your father. 

“Yes Dad, I go to Mass with Rafael, but I don’t see how that is any of your business,” you replied. It was exhausting being around your family. You focused your attention back on your food. Rafael’s hand went back to your leg, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. 

“Well then,” your mother said softly, “I’m glad we’ve done a better job of teaching Carter manners,” You felt tears clouding your vision again. This was such a bad idea. Suddenly your phone started buzzing in your pocket. 

“Sorry, excuse me a few moments,” you said, standing up and heading into the other room. “Hello?” 

“Y/N, it’s been too long. You’re out of town right now?” you hung up right away, sucking in a sharp breath. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to you. You collapsed down to your knees, trying not to panic. Tears were welling up in your eyes, overflowing down your cheeks and dripping onto your shirt and the floor. Footsteps echoed down the hallway before someone sat down next to you. You didn’t even want to look up. 

“Hey,” it was Rafael’s voice, “Do you want to go? I’m sorry--”

“It’s not that,” you tearfully responded, “Casey just called me,” He shifted up to his knees, arms going around you. “He’s supposed to be leaving me alone, but I’m sitting here, miserably waiting for the trial to start while he gets to live his life out on bail. It’s not fair,” 

“I know it isn’t,” Rafael whispered, “His attorney can only stall for so long,” You turned your head against his shirt and sobbed. 

“He could stall for another year Rafi, this is hanging over my head and I can barely breathe sometimes. He’s only on motions right now, he could ask for a continuance, claim insanity, I don’t know what to do anymore,” you hadn’t felt this panicked about it in awhile, other things holding your attention, but you didn’t often go a month without a really, really bad day. 

“I can make a call, maybe we can speed it up, but once it’s over, it’s over. There will be no more hearings, no more testifying, and no more harassment,” he whispered, lips pressed against the top of your head. You sniffled, nodding. 

“Let’s go back,” you finally whispered. Rafael stood up, helping you to your feet. His arm was around your waist as you headed back to the dining room. 

“Ah, good you’re back. Do you need a tissue?” Your mother’s voice was kind for the first time this visit. She could be perfectly nice and loving, but your refusal to agree with your parent’s religious views caused a lot of tension between you. 

“Yes please,” you replied, wiping at your eyes. She brought you over a box, rubbing your shoulder, 

“Your father and I were talking, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry. You’re an adult, and I shouldn’t be treating you like a child,” she said softly. You were shocked silent by her words. 

“Oh, thank you. I really appreciate that,” you said softly, “It’s not your fault I’m upset though. It’s a long story,” 

“Well eat your food, being hungry won’t help,” she said gently. Dinner passed without another incident, Rafael talking amicably with your father about being a lawyer. When everyone was done eating, Rafael stood up and started to collect dishes, 

“Here, let me help you do the dishes,” he offered to your mother, but she just laughed for a second, 

“No, no, definitely not. Y/N would you like to help?” she asked. You patted Rafael’s arm and followed her to the kitchen. He stubbornly brought dishes out to the sink. “Don’t you do the dishes at home honey?” your mom asked, and Rafael butted in to save you from answering, 

“It depends on who has more work,” he said, “And who made dinner,” you knew he was trying to redirect her attention to him, but he was honestly making it worse.

“Y/N,” your mother’s voice was bordering on disappointed. 

“Mom, don’t act like you don’t already know I think differently than you,” you said, running dishes under the hot water. Rafael came up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he pressed a kiss on your shoulder, 

“I’m going to talk to your Dad for a while, then we need to go to the store,” he whispered, “If Casey Mitchell calls you again, bring me your phone. I’ll take care of it,” 

“Like you ‘took care’ of it before Rafael? That ended with you having surgery,” you shot back, and he squeezed you tighter against him, 

“I will not let you get hurt again,” his voice was soft but so serious. You turned toward him, catching his lips briefly, 

“I love you,” you whispered, and he smiled, pecking your cheek before heading out to the living room. 

“Well you two sure aren’t shy,” your mother commented. You could tell she was trying not to say anything more on the subject. She came over and started to dry the dishes as you finished them, “Who’s Casey Mitchell? Another boyfriend?” you turned white, scrubbing plates aggressively. 

“No, definitely not a boyfriend and not something I want to talk about,” you whispered. Your mom let it go when she saw how upset it made you. Heading into the living room, you sat down next to Rafael on the couch. It was then that your phone started to ring again. You pulled it out, eyes flickering to Rafael’s face before you answered, “Hello?” you asked softly. 

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking about you, about how good you felt--” You pulled the phone away from your ear, trying not to cry. 

“Raf,” you whispered, and he looked over at you, eyes narrowing, 

“Him again? Give it here,” he practically growled. He took the phone, shoving it up against his ear, “Mitchell, yes it’s Barba. Listen here you son of a bitch, stop calling or I’ll come and break your nose again. Yeah? I’m going to call the D.A. Mitchell, get a Contact Provision added to the Order of Protection. You get to parade around happily on the outside while we wait for trial and I can’t stop that, but I will not sit here and let you continue to harass her. Shut up,” he aggressively ended the call, handing you your phone. You could feel your family’s stares as you tried to collect yourself. “Let’s go to the store,” Rafael suggested. You nodded, standing up and following him out to your rental car. The ride to the store was quiet, but as soon as you got there, Rafael bumped your shoulder, “You okay?” he asked softly. You shook your head, and he wrapped an arm around you. 

“I’m sorry my parents are so awful,” you whispered, “They mean well, they just--they have strong beliefs,” 

“They aren’t awful,” Rafael said softly, “Although I was very close to yelling at your mother,” you laughed at that, 

“Well you have more restraint than I do apparently,” you leaned into his chest as you walked through the store. He rubbed circles onto your back. 

“Two pregnancy tests?” he asked softly. You nodded. “Have you been feeling nauseous?” 

“No, no, they’re for in a couple days,” you explained. Rafael grabbed two tests, paying for them and then walking back out to the car with you. You both were in, buckling your seatbelts when you had an idea. “Raf, we need to have sex tonight,” 

“I know,” Rafael replied, “I’m not sure how that’s gonna work with separate rooms considering I don’t want to get my head blown off by a bullet,” 

“What if, what if we went and got a hotel room. Just for a couple hours. We wouldn’t hurt my parent’s feelings and we could keep to the schedule,” you suggested. Rafael smiled, 

“You wanna play the part of the hooker?” he asked cheekily. You smacked his shoulder, glaring at him. 

“I hate you,” you whispered, but he just laughed. He let you direct him to the nearest hotel, handing over his bank card. The room was nice enough, one bed with comfortable sheets. Rafael set the bag down on the dresser, taking his jacket off and settling on the edge of the bed. “Who’s gonna be on top tonight?” you asked softly. He laughed, taking his shoes off, 

“Who says only one of us can be on top?” he grabbed your shirt, pulling you down on top of him for a kiss. You started unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his neck and jaw while he pulled at your clothing, trying to get his hands on warm skin. His touches were soft, thrusts tender and slow as he kissed across your neck and drew gasps from you. You came apart with a soft moan, his name on your lips. Rafael held you tight to him after that, soft presses of his lips on your cheeks and face, “Do you want any wine?” he asked softly, “I can see what they have,” 

“No,” you whispered, “I better not,” his hand stroked over your sweat soaked stomach. You kissed him lazily, hands wandering across his heated skin. You could feel him growing hard again, his erection poking into your thigh. 

“Oh lord, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispered, “Fuck, I’m gonna be so sore,” 

“Shh, you said we could both be on top, I’ve got it,” you murmured, kissing his forehead as you climbed up on his lap. He laughed softly but that quickly turned into a choked groan when you sunk down. 

“Shit,” he murmured, noises muffled against your neck. It took more effort to get him off this time, and he was absolutely exhausted afterwards, collapsing onto the bed, his chest heaving with exertion. You kissed his face, 

“No sleeping Rafi, we have to go back. First though, you need a shower. C’mon,” he grunted in response to your words. 

“I’m beat,” he grumbled, rolling over and trying to hide his face in the pillow. You dug your fingers into his sides where you knew he was ticklish and watched in amusement as he thrashed around on the bed, laughing breathlessly, “Quit it, hahaha oh my god, stop,” you didn’t stop until he promised to get up. He glared at you in the shower, but broke down laughing eventually. “That was mean,” 

“Hey, I told you you needed to get up,” you defended yourself. Finally both of you were clean, dry, and dressed. You tried not to feel embarrassed as you exited the hotel, getting in the car. Rafael had been joking earlier, but you did feel a little like people were looking at you. “I’ll drive. You can take a nap if you want,” you offered, shivering while the car warmed up. Rafael smiled thankfully, reclining the seat. He was out cold almost immediately. You started the fifteen minute drive back your parents, thinking on everything that was going on in your life. You absolutely hated the look that would cross Rafael’s face every time your pregnancy tests came up negative. He was being so strong for you, being there to comfort you every time. You couldn’t get over how amazing he was. He had saved you, picking up your life piece by piece and putting them right back where they belonged. You patted his hand where it rested on his stomach. “You’re amazing, you know that?” you whispered. How could he ever think he was a monster? The pain that he must feel everyday had to be staggering, but somehow he always put on a brave face. He lived with it, and he had taught you to live with your own pain. “You’re not a monster. What he did to you, he’s the monster. I know you, I promise you aren’t,” you knew he couldn’t hear you, but you wanted to say it anyways. When you pulled into the driveway, you didn’t want to wake him up, but you knew you had to. “Rafi, wake up honey,” you murmured, rubbing his arm. He blinked, opening his eyes and sighing. 

“Here already?” He asked softly. 

“Yeah, come on,” you opened the door, grabbing the bag as you climbed out and hiding it under your coat. “Come here and give me a kiss before we go in,” Rafael obliged your request before following you inside. You snuck upstairs, stashing the bag in your room before coming back down. 

“You two are finally back,” Your dad said, but he didn’t seem upset, 

“Crowded at the store,” you lied. Rafael was sitting on the couch, talking softly with your mother. You made your way over to sit next to him, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, “You should grow your hair out again,” you whispered. 

“No, Y/N, that was so much work. Bertuccio made that comment about it in court that one time,” he trailed off when you made a pouty face at him, “Don’t look at me like that, Y/N, please,” he sighed, “I’ll think about it. I’m gonna go to sleep,” he stood up, pecking your cheek, “I love you,” 

“Oh my God, you old man,” you teased, “It’s only 9,” 

“Y/N! Don’t use that language in my house,” your father exclaimed. Your rolled your eyes, 

“Sorry,” you didn’t really mean it, but fighting wasn’t worth it, “Love you too Rafi, goodnight,” you gave him a hug before settling back down on the couch with your mom. 

“So, it’s been awhile, how have you been?” Your mother asked. She was trying to be amicable with you which you appreciated. 

“Not so great,” you admitted, “But better recently. Rafael has really been a lifesaver,” 

“Do you...do you want to talk about it?” No you didn’t, but you figured talking a little bit wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. 

“I-I was working in Brooklyn and something happened. I went through a really, really dark time, and Rafael was just there for me throughout all of it. We both have stuff we’re working through,” you didn’t really want to say more because you knew it would end in questions that would make you cry. 

“Well I’m glad you’re doing better. I really am sorry about earlier. No matter if I agree with you or not, that wasn’t a good way to act,” her apology meant a lot to you. You let her pull you into a hug, 

“Thanks Mama, I think I’m gonna head up to bed,” you said. You laid in the dark of your room for a while, trying to feel at ease, but you were still shaken up from Casey’s call. It was midnight when you went downstairs for some tea. The light under Rafael’s door was off, so you decided not to bother him despite the urge to curl up in his arms. The sound of the door opening startled you, but when your older sister came in, covered in snow, you stood up, “Ella!” 

“Y/N, hey,” she said softly, holding you tight in her arms. “How are you doing honey?” 

“Okay,” You whispered. You missed your sister dearly. 

“Where’s your boyfriend that I’ve heard so much about?” She asked excitedly, 

“Upstairs, asleep. I wore him out,” your mischievous tone of voice made her laugh, 

“How’d you manage that with Mom and Dad all over the place?” 

“We took a little detour to a hotel,” Ella sat down with you on the couch. “He had a long flight too, not a big fan of heights,” 

“How’s work been?” She asked softly, 

“It’s okay, I-a lot happened in the last year,” you hadn’t even told Ella about Casey. Rafael was the only one. 

“Hey, don’t cry hon, what’s going on?” Maybe it was just a release of emotions after the long afternoon or maybe you subconsciously wanted to tell your sister, but suddenly you were sobbing in her arms. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, sucking in breaths, shaking slightly. Ella held you tight, her fingers running through your hair as she shushed you. 

“Don’t be sorry, just breathe,” she said gently. You hadn’t realized how badly you missed her until now when you felt like you had more people in your corner. Rafael would always be there for you, the squad was there for you, but so was your sister, the one member of your family who loved you unconditionally. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” 

“I’m under a lot of stress right now. There’s something I didn’t tell you,” you whispered, “A lot of things actually,” 

“You can tell me,” she prodded gently, rubbing your back. Your face was pressed against her shoulder, a big wet spot by your cheek. 

“I was assaulted,” you said it quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. 

“What?” she sounded so alarmed which is what you hated about telling people. Rafael had been so calm with you. 

“At work, by my boss in Brooklyn. It’s why I transferred to Manhattan and met Rafael, and the trial is coming up soon. It hurts so bad everytime I think about it,” you managed to explain. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner? I would have flown down to stay with you. I would’ve kicked this guy’s ass for touching my little sister,” Ella was holding you tighter now, her tone light. 

“I didn’t want to bother you, and I didn’t know how to say it,” you admitted, 

“Have you told Mom and Dad?” she asked lowly. 

“Are you kidding me Ella? No way in hell I would ever tell them that. Dad would ask me what I was wearing and Mom would tell me that’s what I get for working with men,” she knew you were right. It’s just how your parents were, “And then I got pregnant, but we lost the baby. I’m a mess. My life is a mess,” 

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. You sniffled, clutching onto Ella’s shirt, 

“It’s okay. We’re trying right now, on purpose this time,” you said softly, “That’s why we snuck off to the hotel, I’m ovulating in the next couple of days,” you were hiccuping now, “And I wanted to tell you, I just didn’t know what to say,” 

“Well if you don’t tell me when you get pregnant, I’m gonna kick your ass,” she said softly, “And I better be your fucking Maid of Honor,” 

“Like I would ask anyone else,” you murmured, still holding onto her. “I’m sorry, I-that came out of nowhere,” 

“Shh, no, I’m glad you told me,” she whispered, “Come on, let’s go upstairs,” You nodded, following her up to your bedroom where she sat with you until you fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Thanksgiving Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so short, but I like it a lot actually. I'm gonna warn you now, brace yourselves for the next part, it's a doozy. I'm trying to finish it up before I go to sleep. Enjoy and I'd love comments :)

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was missing Rafael. You missed the lazy way he would kiss you in the morning, his arms holding you tight to him as you woke up in a little cocoon that always felt so safe and secure. You were so spoiled, rarely having slept alone in the past few months. You slowly got out of bed, heading downstairs for breakfast and to find your fiancé. He was sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee and your sister when you walked in. “Oh. Rafael, I see you’ve met Ella,” You sat down beside him, 

“Liv called,” Rafael said softly, 

“Oh, do we need to leave?” You asked, but he shook his head. 

“I told her to call someone who wasn’t out of town,” the smile on his face made you laugh. “She might be mad at me now,” Brushing your fingers through his hair, you scooted closer. 

“You picked a smart one Y/N, he’s been talking my ear off about the classics,” Ella said with a grin. Rafael leaned his head against your shoulder. You leaned down and kissed the top of his head, 

“You okay?” You asked softly. 

“Not really,” He whispered, but he didn’t offer any more information. 

“He loves to read, the study at his apartment is packed with books,” You said looking at your sister while you rubbed soothing circles across Rafael’s chest. When you looked at him, his eyes were red rimmed, dark bags under them like he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. 

“Yeah cause they taught us good literature at Harvard,” he said softly, a sparkle in his eyes. Ella started laughing, and you just smacked him in the shoulder lightly. You were glad he was trying to make jokes still. He was trying to be okay. 

“You keep that up and you’ll be on the couch when we get home,” you threatened, trying not to laugh. He was so goofy, always finding a way to make you laugh. 

“But Y/N, my back,” he said dramatically, and that really did get a laugh out of you, 

“I hate you sometimes, you know that?” You said, wiping at your eyes. 

“I’m gonna leave you two crazy kids alone for a couple minutes. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” Ella said teasingly. You laughed and leaned over to Rafael, 

“That isn’t much,” You whispered. 

“Hey! I heard that!” Her voice echoed from the other room. Rafael laughed again before shutting his eyes. You were worried about him. 

“What’s wrong baby?” You asked softly, holding him tight.

“It’s nothing Y/N, it’s stupid,” he sighed. 

“Thanksgiving dinner isn’t until later. Do you want to take a nap?” You asked softly, “You look tired,” 

“No,” his answer was sharp and hurried before he took a breath and looked away. You ran your fingers through his hair, 

“Rafi, talk to me,” You whispered, “I want to help,” 

“You can’t help, okay? It’s-it’s my problem,” he sounded so defensive it broke your heart. All you could think to do was tighten your hold on him, leaning your face into his hair, 

“It doesn’t have to be your problem Raf,” you murmured, but you let it go after that. The way his hand shook didn’t escape your attention. You knew he could and would put on a brave face and act like he was completely fine when inside he was falling apart, but you weren’t sure how to help.

“Hey, have you thought about the wedding anymore? We need to start planning,” he said softly, “We should probably tentatively set a date,” At the skeptical look on your face he amended his statement, “And by a date I mean a general month of a year that we would like to get married in,” 

“I haven’t been thinking of anything but a baby,” you whispered, “But we probably should start planning. Maybe it’d be good to get our minds off of everything,” 

“I’m thinking about the honeymoon,” he said softly, and you smacked his arm again. 

“Seriously?” 

“Hey, not like that. Geez. I meant where do you want to go?” he said with a laugh. 

“I don’t know Rafael, where do you want to go?” you replied, leaning your head back against the couch. 

“I asked you first,” Rafael cheekily answered. You sighed loudly, 

“Paris,” you said softly. It was cliche but it wasn’t even really for you. Rafael always tried to put you first, but you heard from a little bird (his mom) how much he loved Paris. She told you he talked about it for months, but then he got busy and didn’t have much time to go back and visit. His eyes absolutely lit up when you said that. 

“We have to go to the Louvre and oh, oh we should visit the Luxembourg Gardens. There’s so much to see. Have you been to Paris before?” He was talking animatedly, sitting up and looking at you. 

“No,” you said softly, a smile playing in your lips, “But I’m gonna guess that you have,” he talked your ear off about Paris until Ella came back. 

“Mom wants your help making the pie,” she said with a grin. You kissed Rafael before standing up and heading toward the kitchen. He looked so much happier than he had earlier, his smile actually reaching his eyes. Your mother had you stirring the gelatin that would go in your strawberry pie while Ella was cutting apples up.

“Ella, honey, where is Kyle? I thought you said he was going to be here,” your mother said softly. You kept your head down, stirring the mixture and trying to stay out of the line of fire for as long as possible. 

“He got called away on business at the last minute,” she explained, picking up a piece of apple and popping it in her mouth.

“Are you two getting married anytime soon? He proposed months ago Ella,” your sister sighed loudly.

“How many times do I have to tell you, we’re waiting until I get my promotion at work and then we will start planning the wedding,” 

“Well how about you Y/N, it’s about time you get married and start having children. You can only get pregnant for so long,” You cringed as your mother turned her attention toward you. Ouch. That stung. You tried to blink back the tears that were burning your eyes. You heard a familiar sounding sigh from the doorway, and when you looked up, Rafael was clenching his teeth and watching you carefully with a sympathetic gaze. 

“I know mother. Eventually,” you managed to say, “Excuse me a minute,” 

“Oh but Y/N-” you just kept walking ignoring her voice that trailed after you. You opened the door, walking out into the cold. You needed to get away. 

“Hey!” It was Rafael’s voice calling after you, hurried footsteps approaching. You furiously wiped at the tears that had escaped your eyes, ignoring him, “Y/N, wait up,” He was breathless, when he finally caught up, “She doesn’t know,” 

“I know Raf, that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Why can’t anything go right,” You whispered, turning into his arms. 

“I wish more than anything that I could take this pain away from you cariño,” he murmured into your hair. 

“What if it’s me, what if we can’t have kids Rafael?” You asked softly. 

“Then we’ll figure something out Y/N,” he said softly, “It’s going to be okay,” It was the same question and answer day after day, but it didn’t make you feel any better. You held tight to his shirt, wishing that things could have gone so much differently. It was times like these that you had to remind yourself how lucky you were to have Rafael and how that should be enough for you. You shouldn’t be feeling sorry for yourself when plenty of other people were worse off than you. “Come on inside, you’re gonna catch a cold out here,” You hadn’t even noticed the frigid temperature, but he was shivering in his thin shirt and jeans; you knew how much he hated being cold. You dutifully followed him inside and toward the kitchen, “No, you’re gonna sit down for a bit. I’m going to make you some tea,” He nudged you toward the couch, so you sat down. Rafael disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a warm cup of tea that had just enough milk and sugar in it. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. Rafael sat beside you, 

“You okay?” He asked softly. You nodded, wiping your eyes again. 

“I’m used to it,” you replied, “That was actually fairly mild, it just struck a nerve,” 

“I didn’t ask if you’re used to it, I asked if you’re okay?” He said, his hand on your shoulder. You shook your head no, letting him come closer and hug you. “We’re gonna have a baby Y/N, one way or another, we’re gonna do it,” he promised. You shut your eyes, breathing in Rafael and telling yourself it was going to be alright. The problem was, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself.

……………………………

Thanksgiving dinner passed mostly without incident, and everyone ended up talking in the living room afterwards over coffee. Rafael was sitting next to you on the couch, his arm around your shoulders, rubbing little circles with his knuckles across the exposed skin of your shoulder. “So Rafael, how is your win loss rate?” Your father asked. 

“Oh, uh I don’t keep track of that,” Rafael said softly. You smiled, patting his hand. 

“It must be hard what you guys do,” Ella said, looking at you, “Seeing all those horrible crime,” 

“Right, you do sex crimes?” Your dad asked. 

“That’s correct,” Rafael said, “It’s tough sometimes, but knowing sometimes I can make a difference is enough for me,” 

“It’s liberating to allow these women and men to tell their stories. Telling people about an assault is very helpful in the healing process,” you explained. Rafael leaned over and kissed your temple. 

“It must be dangerous working so closely with dangerous criminals,” your mother commented. She was obviously trying to hold back on the commentary she wanted to share. Rafael’s eyes flicked from yours to your parents. He had been gently pushing you to tell your family, and you knew it was only because he wanted you to feel like you had all the support in the world. This seemed like as good of an opportunity as ever, but you had serious reservations about how your parents would react. 

“Actually, it can be. Uh, I have something to tell you guys...without Carter please,” you finally said. Maybe they would support you. Being held by your Mom and Dad and comforted was such an attractive thought. You could use all the help you could get. 

“Carter go on up to your room,” your Dad said softly. 

“But-” 

“Up to your room. Now. Unless you want me to give you a whoopin’ at sixteen years old,” he said harshly. Carter’s eyes grew comically wide as he stood up and headed toward the stairs. 

“I-there’s a reason I transfered to Manhattan from Brooklyn, and it’s possible you guys could hear about this on the news or see it online so I want it to come from me,” you said softly, “I started out in the Brooklyn DA’s office, and there was a man there named Casey Mitchell. He was my boss. One night right before I was going to head home, he asked me to come up to his office to go over some files. I went in there alone and-” you took a breath, trying not to cry. Rafael’s hand rubbed over your back, but then his phone started to ring loudly. 

“I’ll be right back, I have to take this.” he said softly, kissing your cheek before standing up. 

“I made a bad choice to go in that room alone with him, but he took full advantage. He pinned me down on the floor and he raped me,” you said softly. Ella came over to sit next to you. 

“That’s not your fault Y/N,” she said gently, stroking your arm. 

“And he’s been charged with rape and stalking. The trial is supposed to be soon, but his lawyer keeps postponing it,” The room went silent after that, neither of your parents saying a word. You were practically holding your breath, tears escaping your eyes despite your best efforts. 

“Y/N, this is exactly why I tell you that the workforce is not the place for women. If you’d just listen to me,” your mother finally said. You heard Rafael’s quickly approaching footsteps, 

“I’ve seen those short skirts women lawyers wear; they give men the wrong idea. Why are you still working now? Why didn’t you come home?” your father’s words hurt even more. You had hoped he might be more understanding. Tears were pouring from your eyes at this point. How could they not take your side? Why couldn’t they be there for you this once? 

“Guys-” Ella started to say sharply, but she was interrupted by Rafael. His voice was full of anger, 

“She didn’t come home because she didn’t feel safe here, and I don’t blame her. We came here because of me. I wanted to meet you, to meet the people who raised the woman I love with all my heart, but it’s apparent to me that you had no impact on who she’s become today. She is loving, generous, and absolutely amazing at her job, but all you ever do is criticize her. She didn’t feel safe telling her own parents that she was sexually assaulted, and instead she tried to live with that on her own. None of it was her fault,” you had never heard him so angry in your life, “We’re leaving, come on honey,” he said softly, helping you to stand up and guiding you upstairs to pack your bags. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have pushed you to do any of this. We shouldn’t have come,” 

“I told you I didn’t want to come here,” you said softly, curling against his chest and crying. He shushed you, stroking your hair, 

“I know, I’m sorry. This was my fault,” he murmured, holding you tight, “Sit down. I can pack,” You stubbornly grabbed the bag, starting to shove clothes in it. Rafael ran a hand over your hair, helping to collect your clothes and other items. You hadn’t unpacked much or spread out so it only took a few minutes. “Here, give me the bag,” you handed it over, not having energy to argue. Rafael took a couple minutes to get his stuff together and then he was packing up the car almost violently. Ella hugged you goodbye, promising to call and to come visit sometime. He came back in to put his coat on, “Bye Ella,” he said softly, smiling when she pulled him in for a hug. “Come on mi amor,” he said softly wrapping an arm around you. You were still sniffling when you buckled yourself in, “I’m going to call the airline,” he told you as he pulled out, “We’re gonna go home and spend all day tomorrow together. We’re supposed to be off,” 

He took care of literally everything: carrying the bags in, getting your tickets adjusted, returning the car. Finally, you were both sitting in the terminal, waiting for your plane. You were quiet, trying to tell yourself that you didn’t care about what your parents thought. “Rafi,” you finally said softly. 

“Hmm?” he asked, looking at you. 

“I’m sorry I blamed you. It wasn’t your fault,” you said softly. He had been so quiet all day, and you knew something was wrong with him. He was trying to be brave for you, to take care of you, and he didn’t need to be stressing himself out because of this. 

“I shouldn’t have pushed you,” he said softly, so you squeezed his hand, 

“It wasn’t your fault Rafael,” you repeated. He blamed himself so much for everything. 

“I’m still sorry. You didn’t need to go through that. You shouldn’t have had to,” Rafael leaned forward with a tired sigh, dropping his head into his hands. You rubbed his back gently, “I just thought cause you are so….I thought they would be. understanding and that, I don’t know, you would have your family there to support you,” 

“I’ve been through worse Rafa, I grew up with that,” you said gently. 

“Do you want to go get a drink? I could use a drink,” he replied finally. You nodded, trailing him toward the bar that was around the corner. He ordered a whiskey for himself and you had a glass of cabernet. Rafael stared down at his glass, idly tracing the rim with his finger. You ran a hand over the hair at the nape of his neck, fingers sifting through the locks, nails scraping gently across his scalp. “I-I had a nightmare last night,” he whispered. 

“What?” you asked, surprised. 

“I had a nightmare-”

“I know honey, I heard what you said, but why didn’t you say something earlier?” you clarified, rubbing down his back again. He took a long sip from his glass. 

“I haven’t had one in awhile. I didn’t want to worry you, but I woke up and I was so scared. I just sat up for the rest of the night,” he finally explained. 

“I wish you would have come and found me baby. I’m sorry you had a bad night,” you whispered, “Are you okay now?” 

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “I’m just stressed out and I wish that everything this year hadn’t been so hard,” Rafael rubbed tiredly at his eyes, “We should go see our therapist again probably,” You nodded, wanting to help so badly, but you weren’t sure what to say. There wasn’t much to say. 

“I love you,” you said softly, “More than anything,” 

“I know,” he whispered, scooting his chair a bit closer to yours. “What a weekend huh?” You smiled, covering his hand that was resting on the bar table. 

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I’m glad we’re going home,” He finished his whiskey, and seemingly considered ordering a second one but decided against it. The two of you headed back to your seats, and you wrapped an arm around Rafael, holding him close until it was time to board. He passed out fairly quickly, too exhausted to stay awake. It was better that way anyhow considering he would probably be shaking with anxiety if he was up. You had to shake him awake when the plane was landing. He was drowsy, running a hand through his hair before standing up and yawning. He pulled the bags down from the top compartment, and the two of you headed out into the airport. The night air was cold as you walked from the bodega you had the cab drop you at to Rafael’s apartment. You were shivering with the breeze. Rafael wordlessly unbuttoned his coat, taking the grocery bags from your hands before draping it over your shoulders and then giving you his scarf too. “Rafi,” you whispered, trying to protest. It was freezing outside, and he, of all people, hated being cold. He always had a big coat on hand, a scarf, gloves, and sometimes even a hat. He kept his apartment so warm his electric bill had to be astronomical, and there were just about ten blankets on his bed. 

“Don’t. Just let me,” he said with a soft smile. When you looked at him, you knew somehow, someway everything would turn out okay. Even if you didn’t have your parents behind you, Rafael was all the family you needed.


End file.
